It was a typical late summer afternoon with the kids playing in the back yard, when my 5 year old started yelling he needs to go to the potty! By the look on his face, I knew this was not your typical, "just pee behind the tree" moment, this was the big one!

Holding his hands against the back of his pants, he ran past me at full speed. I quickly asked my daughter to grab the mail before she came inside, and raced after him. As I rounded the corner to the bathroom, the trail of diarrhea had begun.


Since I can't stand the word, diarrhea, or according to spell check, spell it correctly, I am going to refer to this "diarrhea" episode as the "Big D."


Arriving at the bathroom door, I discovered that my sweet son attempted to make it, but fell short. Before I caught up to him, he tried to get his swim shorts off with no success. Well, the shorts did come off, but everything came with it. So now the floor leading up to the bathroom, the bathroom floor, the potty and his legs were covered in the Big D.


As he sat there on the potty, I told him I was going to go throw out his bathing suit and I would be right back to clean him up. He then begged me not to throw out his favorite Cars bathing suit, so as a typical guilt ridden mom, I went to rinse his bathing suit out in the laundry room.


As I was trying to rinse this suit out, I was cursing the person who decided that mesh underwear in boys bathing suits are a good idea. Let's face it, it's only purpose is holding in, what you really want to wash out! Through my furious scrubbing, I heard him call for me, so I tossed the swim shorts in the sink, and turned on the water to rinse.


Since he was covered from waist to toe, I made a command decision to pick him up from the back, under his arms and I warned him, "do not touch ANYTHING." So instead, as I lifted him up, he decided to wrap his legs around the back of my knees and locked them into place...covering me with the Big D. I carried him upstairs like a baby ape holding onto his momma, then dumped him into the shower stall. I turned it on and began to rinse my legs when I heard my daughter screaming from downstairs, "MOM!".


I yelled back, "I am up here!". Again, "MOMMMM!!". Again, I screamed back articulating every word, I...AM....UP...HERE!" Finally the last time she screamed, "Mom!", I am embarrassed to admit it, but I yelled, "I am covered in poop (well maybe I used the other word) come up here!"


All of a sudden, I hear her voice coming closer and she said, "I fell and I am covered in blood!" I drop the shower hose and run into my room to find her from head to waist with cuts and a bloody lip. Guilt immediately sets in. She decided to ride her scooter down our long driveway in her bathing suit with no shoes or helmet, hit a rock and went flying.


As she is explaining this, my naked 5 year old ,still covered in the Big D, walks out of the shower soaking wet to find out what is going on. I guess now is a great time to also mention that my husband was away with the Navy - in Hawaii - of course!


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